


The Grand Manor

by RussianCaravan



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Human, F/M, M/M, Mind Control, Period-Typical Homophobia, Period-Typical Sexism, Religious Fanaticism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-29
Updated: 2016-01-29
Packaged: 2018-05-17 00:40:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5847193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RussianCaravan/pseuds/RussianCaravan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alfred had always been curious about the grand manor that loomed above the river that past his small town, but this childhood fascination is the least of Alfred's worries when he hides a secret that could have him executed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Grand Manor

Alfred had always been curious about the grand manor that loomed above the river that past his small town. However, his interest in the manor truly took off when he heard a strange rumour from some older kids one day by the river. It was a day he remembered vividly.

“I’m gonna win again Matt!” A five year old Alfred shouted to his twin, who ran just a bit behind him.

“No way! That’s no fair, you always win!” Matthew shouted back, managing to push Alfred to the side as he tried to run ahead.

“Boys, play nicely now!” their mother called from behind. They continue running until they reached the edge of the river, where they saw a group of other townsfolk chatting, collecting water and washing clothes. In town so small, the trip to the river was quite a social event. Their mother quickly began chatting with the other adults, while Alfred and Matthew quickly sort out other children, who were telling stories about the mysterious manor.

“- and it has massive fangs that pierce the skin like razors!” Loudly proclaimed Gilbert (a very annoying boy of 11 with white hair) using hand gestures and all.

“As if Gilbert! It’s much more likely a witch lives there, that’s why she never leaves, because she can just use magic for all her needs.” Declared 10-year-old Elizabeta, her voice and stance as determined as ever.

“Big brother once told me that a dragon must live there, hording away a collecting of gold and jewels it has collected over centuries.” Told little Lili, a girl of five as well.

“That sounds similar to what my father told me about the Man of Frost from our home country. He said the Man of Frost has lived for hundreds of years in the tundra, waiting for their next victim.” Suggested Toris, a nervous foreign boy of eight.

“Does that manor look like tundra Toris? Nope! I’d have to say it’s just haunted! I mean, obviously a person must have lived there at some point, so I think they died and their ghost must have never left, which explains why they never leave but you can still see smoke come from the chimneys!” reasoned Feliks, a blonde boy of eight. The different theories continued to fascinate Alfred, as he simply could not understand how such a spectacular piece of architecture could exist when not one carriage had rode to it in his, nor any of the other townsfolks, memories. And despite the outrageousness of the other children’s stories, it seemed to be as good as any other theory, which to Alfred made it even more intriguing. This simple childhood curiosity over time became more and more prominent, and by his nineteenth birthday, had blossomed into a full-grown obsession. Alfred spent hours reading about other such happenings sometimes, which lead to him neglecting his chores (both at home and at local farmers where he sometimes got paid for his work) and his social time, which greatly worried his mother and brother.

“Calm down Matt, you worry way too much!” called Alfred as he raced through woods to collect water from the river. He looked back to see Matt walked behind him. “You’ve become so boring! We used to race here all the time!”

“When we were kids, Alfred.” Matt replied as he continued a normal walking pace, catching up with Alfred.

“You’re not going to start on that ‘maturity’ and ‘proper adult behaviour’ stuff again, are you Matt? Because I think Ma has told me the lecture enough times.”

“That’s the thing Alfred, she has a point-“

“Is this because of that stuck-up French-“

“Alfred! Don’t say such rude things about her, she’s sweet and a very respectable lady. In fact, we’re getting along so well… I think I may talk to her father about asking for her hand.” He blushed, while Alfred merely stood, shocked. “Alfred?”

“You can’t be serious. Marriage? Already? But we’re only-“

“Nineteen, Al, that’s a perfectly respectable age to be married. Which is something you should start thinking about too. That’s why Ma is so worried about your…your-“

“Let me guess ‘immaturity’. I’m not immature Matt, wanting to fun isn’t the same as being immature, and if it is well damn it all! I’ll be immature! I don’t see the big deal in marrying some snooty broad anyways.”

“You sound absurd! So absurd you almost sound like, dare I say it, Uncle Ludwig.” That comment made Alfred’s blood run cold. He remembered their Uncle Ludwig fondly, but the rest of the family considered him a black sheep for his actions.

When he was ten, he and his family went on a trip to a larger town about twenty miles North-West, the one they said Uncle Ludwig had moved to only weeks prior. Alfred couldn’t put his finger on quite what it was, but Ludwig’s sudden move of towns seemed extremely strange to him. When they arrived there, it was clear why. Alfred’s mother took them to the town square which was unusually full, everyone seemed to be looking at something.

“Ma? Ma? Why are we here? What’s everyone looking at?” She didn’t answer, merely frowning. Curious, Alfred wandered further into the crowd.

“Alfred, stop! Come back here-“

“Let him see for himself, Matthew follow your brother, let them see what becomes of sodomites.” Their father said, silencing their mother. He continued moving through the crowd, when he saw a podium for a hanging, and there, with a noose around his neck, was his Uncle Ludwig. He was too shocked to do or say anything, he couldn’t believe his firm but kind uncle was about to be killed. It made no sense to him. Before long Alfred’s thoughts were interrupted by a booming voice calling out from the podium.

“These two sinners have committed a truly appalling act. An abomination on god himself! They have lain with one another as thou should lie with a woman.” Boos could be heard across the crowd, and rotten vegetables thrown at Ludwig and another man standing next to him on the podium, also with a noose around his neck, tears visibly running down his cheeks. “So as punishment for this hideous crime unto god, you are both sentenced to death. Are there any last words?”

Ludwig raised his head high, trying to look as brave and as respectable as possible “I love you Feliciano, in this life and the next, not even death may take that from me.” Despite the boo’s from the crowd again, Alfred was touched. He had never heard a sentence any more bittersweet and filled with so much genuine love. But that moment was quickly ripped from him as the executioner released the door of the platform and let Ludwig fall to his death. As Alfred heard the crack of his neck, a shrill “NO!” sounded through the air from the mouth of Feliciano, tears and snot now running down his face without hope of stopping.

“And you? Any last words?”

“I love you too Ludwig, even if it means eternal damnation.” Feliciano managed to get out through his tears. He too then fell to his death, another sickening crack sounding through the air, and as the crowd cheered, Alfred felt his heart ache- he knew he was a sinner for liking boys, but he had never imagined his sin was so severe. Alfred had hated himself day and night for the thoughts that ran through his mind about other men from that day forward. He had kept that side of him locked away under lock and key. So Matthew couldn’t possibly know could he? Alfred had been so careful to hide and repress. He swallowed thickly, trying so hard not to show his fear, but by the look on his brother’s face, he hadn’t succeeded. “Lord above, you are like him! My own brother!”

Alfred didn’t know what to say-or to do- so he ran. Ran as fast as he could far into the woods. Matthew called out to him but his heart pumped so loudly in his ears he couldn’t hear him. Tears sprang to his eyes as the realisation hit him- he couldn’t go back, ever. The townsfolk would hang him on just Matthews’s testimony. They would hate him- and his family. One black sheep was enough. If he ran away and never returned, at least his guilt couldn’t be proven. With his mind swirling, his feet hit a large tree root and he crashed face-first into the ground. A great sensation of pain hit him, put mass amounts of adrenaline pushed him through the pain, so without even stopping long enough to wipe his now dirtied and bloodied face, Alfred kept running blindly through the woods- that is, until he happened upon a mighty gate. The gate was old but ornately crafted from a beautiful sleek metal. Vines grew up it and storks of grass grew out of cracks in the cobblestone beneath it. Past this gate, stood the mysterious grand manor in all of its splendour. Alfred stood gobsmacked at the marvellous manor that had fascinated him since childhood, not even thinking it odd that he happened upon it when he ran the opposite direction of the river and never changed said direction. He also didn’t think it strange when the gate opened, and then locked behind him by an unknown force as he walked through towards the manor. And finally, he didn’t think it strange that the overwhelming fear or persecution ceased as soon as he laid eyes on said gate. Instead, as he walked towards the grand oak doors before him, he felt an unnatural sense of familiarity and joy. He didn’t find that strange either.

**Author's Note:**

> Appropriate tags will be added as the story progresses! And this is my first multi-chapter fic so here's hoping my upload time isn't too bad.


End file.
